


Christmas Cake

by MoMoMomma



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Genji Shimada, Brother/Brother Incest, Christmas Smut, Food Porn, M/M, Sibling Incest, Top Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 14:51:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12707163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: “A Christmas cake.” Hanzo’s throat is suspiciously tight and he clears it roughly before continuing. “I recalled--a tradition, no? And I thought perhaps you would enjoy it.”





	Christmas Cake

**Author's Note:**

> In case you missed like...all of the tags, this contains consensual incest between blood related brothers. Also, I'm not fully sure what headcanon I wanna commit to re: Genji's genitals, so apologies if anyone feels short-changed that the sex scene isn't as graphic as I tend to get. This fic was 100% inspired by [this](http://mujaween.tumblr.com/post/167243468174/by-mikomiko-permission-to-upload-granted-by-the) amazing artwork by mikomiko. Hope you all enjoy! <3

Hanzo feels odd even as his hand lifts to knock firmly on the door of Genji’s rented room. His brother has insisted he merely just walk in when he returned, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The room was Genji’s, rented by him and with his money and graciously opened to Hanzo as an escape from the Watchpoint celebrations.

It’s not that they didn’t want to participate, but the others were often...overzealous with their Western traditions towards Christmas. 

Hanzo still shudders thinking about the absolutely overflowing box of glittery tinsel Lena had zipped past him carrying. 

The door swinging open breaks him from his horrified reminiscing and Genji grins at him from the other side, motioning him in.

“Were you followed?” He asks, peering out the open door into the street beyond like he’s expecting to see Talon operatives crouched behind mounds of snow.

“Did you expect I might be?” Hanzo sets the cake box down on a small coffee table.

Genji sighs, pushing the door closed and sliding the lock home with a dull thunk.

“Jesse likes to try and get me to participate. He always has.”

Hanzo grunts, unsure of which words to say in response, setting his case down and tucking his hands into his pockets. There’s a moment of awkwardness between them, one that always falls if either of them go too long without words to fill the air. Genji breaks it by clapping his hands together briskly. 

“Right! So, what did you bring me? Dinner?”

“Ah, no. I did not know if--I thought you might have--” 

Shit. Hanzo had eaten earlier before coming. Had Genji not done the same? Was he supposed to bring him a proper dinner instead of sweets? Why had Genji not said something sooner, he knew Hanzo was out in the city, he could have--

“Anija,” Genji’s gentle hand on his shoulder breaks him from his panic and Hanzo jerks his head up to meet his soft gaze. “I was only kidding. I ate earlier.”

Hanzo huffs, shrugging off Genji’s hand alongside the man’s gentle laughter, watching as he rounds the table. He’s regarding the box with a sort of suspicion, golden eyes narrowed as he sizes it up, and he stops with a hand outstretched towards it.

“May I?”

“Please.” Hanzo hates how stilted he sounds, how stilted they _both_ sound, trauma and years tearing away any sense of familiarity and comfort.

Genji gasps when he lifts the lid off the top, a wide grin pulling at the scars near his mouth as he carelessly tosses the top aside.

“Cake!”

“A Christmas cake.” Hanzo’s throat is suspiciously tight and he clears it roughly before continuing. “I recalled--a tradition, no? And I thought perhaps you would enjoy it.”

“Ah, I remember eating these.” Genji laughs, swiping a finger through one meticulous curl of icing decorating the top. “You always ate the strawberries and I would eat all the whipped topping off it.”

“Too much sugar.” Hanzo recalls with a shake of his head, watching Genji lick the icing off his metal fingertips. “Things have not changed much, I see.”

More than Genji knows, in fact. Watching the bright pink of his tongue, almost synthetically colorful, clear icing from the digits is dragging up more feelings than Hanzo wishes to deal with. Back then--the icing had been used in different ways once they’d eaten their fill of cake. Hanzo can still recall the chill of it against his nipple, quickly replaced by the heat of Genji’s mouth as he licked it away.

He shoves the thoughts down almost viciously, aware that whatever he and Genji had when they were younger is no longer alive. It died on the floor of Hanamura that day, spilled across the wood along with trust and Genji’s blood.

“Hanzo, stop.” 

He jerks to attention, blinking wide eyed at Genji’s stern tone. His brother isn’t lost in sweet filled excitement any longer, brows drawn low as he crosses his arms over his chest and glares across the table. 

“What.”

“Do you think, by now, that I cannot tell when you are losing yourself to memories of the past? Memories that should be left where they are?”

“Should I just forget?” Hanzo snaps, temper stretched thin by the discomfort of his arousal and disgust of his own actions. 

Genji sighs, hands on his hips, staring down at the cake like it’s wronged him. Hanzo can _see_ the idea form in his head as he shifts minutely, mouth falling open for a split second before he grins up at him. 

“Genji,” he warns.

“Hush,” Genji murmurs, careful fingers plucking a strawberry from the top as he rounds to stand inches from Hanzo. “Trust me?”

Hanzo doesn’t get a chance to answer, words caught in his throat alongside his breath as Genji’s free hand lifts. It cups his chin, warm after the time Genji has spent inside, cupping against the curve before his thumb presses against Hanzo’s bottom lip. Hanzo’s mouth falls open almost on instinct, shivering when Genji’s thumb clacks softly against the metal of his tongue piercing.

“Wha--”

“Hush, anija.” Genji coos again, raising the strawberry to Hanzo’s now open mouth, forcing the fruit between his lips. 

His fingers curl away once he’s confidant Hanzo won’t spit it out, leaving his index finger pressed to keep the berry in place. Hanzo bites down instinctively, gently, not to eat but to keep it where it is. He cringes at the overly sweet taste of the whipped cream lingering on the berry, swallowing thickly to try and avoid any drool from slipping from the corners of his mouth.

Before him, Genji huffs softly, an amused tilt to his lips while his eyes are anything but. There’s a hunger there, one Hanzo hasn’t seen for what seems like a lifetime, and his grip tightens ever so slightly on Hanzo’s chin. 

He doesn’t speak as he leans forward and Hanzo doesn’t _breathe_. It’s a scene from his dreams, the ones that leave him breathless, clutching the sheets, resisting the urge to slip a hand under them. 

Genji leans forward, careful and slow, tongue flickering out once more. His breath is warm against Hanzo’s lips when he carefully traces the strawberry still held between his teeth. He can hear the way Genji’s throat clicks as he swallows, clearing away the bits of sweetness that clung to the fruit. Hanzo feels frozen in place, unable to move or even breathe too hard in case he scares Genji off.

It’s not until Genji’s tongue brushes his bottom lip, curling underneath the berry, that his infinite patience and control snap. Juice explodes over his tongue when his teeth snap closed around the strawberry, splitting it apart. Hanzo curls his tongue, pulling the fruit into his mouth fully so he doesn’t slop it down his front, but is unable to swallow it down.

He’s far too busy trying not to choke when Genji doesn’t let the lack of fruit stop him, tongue licking a slick line over the corner of his mouth, clearing away a stray bit of cream. 

Hanzo rears back slightly, not enough to imply he doesn’t want it, not enough to make Genji think his cock _isn’t_ pressing insistently against his zipper, just enough to see Genji’s expression. His eyes have drifted closed, though they slide open to lazy, half-lidded at Hanzo’s heavy stare. He looks almost drunk, swaying in place ever so slightly, tongue still extended as he tips Hanzo’s chin upwards.

“Hanzo,” he murmurs, the ghost of a smile crossing his wicked expression. “I’ve missed your sweetness, brother.”

His swallow is loud in the sudden quiet of the room, broken only by the clock on the wall and their panting breaths. Genji seems like he’s waiting for something--a response, perhaps--eyes watching him carefully. 

Hanzo does not think. He firmly pushes down anything like a thought--too many thoughts bring too many connections and connections lead to memories and the shattering of this precious moment. Instead, he reaches out with his bare hand, blindly but still ever so aware of his surroundings. His fingers are gentle in the cake when they connect but Hanzo digs them deep enough that they come away coated in the sticky cream that decorates the top. 

Genji’s mouth drops open so willingly, so sweetly, when Hanzo’s gloved hand grips his chin. He’s not as gentle as Genji was, too excited, hold just a bit too firm, but Genji doesn’t complain. If anything, he opens his mouth wider, eyes glazing in excitement as he watches Hanzo take a deep breath before smearing the icing over his tongue.

It’s sickly sweet, saliva rushing forwards almost instantly in an attempt to clean it from Hanzo’s palate, and he breathes through his nose as he drags Genji in closer. His brother’s hands have fallen now, tangled in the softness of his jacket, keeping Hanzo in close as if he has any intention of stepping away. 

“I’ve missed yours.” Hanzo murmurs, before pressing his tongue against Genji’s. 

The flavor gets smeared between them, messy with the broad strokes of Genji’s tongue, and Hanzo finds himself whining into it almost mindlessly. Genji makes a noise back, just as desperate and needy, and then they’re both swallowing and meeting once more. There’s only the barest remnant of sugared icing now between their tongues, both of them chasing the taste of each other rather than the taste of the cake. 

“Genji,” Hanzo drags their mouths apart with a mournful gasp, using his grip on Genji’s chin to keep him from leaning back in. “What are we--”

“Don’t stop me, Hanzo,” Genji begs, dragging him in so close their stomachs brush. “Please, anija. I’ve missed you--missed _this_.”

Hanzo waits for only a moment, long enough for Genji’s expression to start to crumple, before he tugs him back in. Their lips meet once more, Genji almost brutal in how he ravages Hanzo’s mouth, tongue thrusting deep and rude, licking at everything he can. 

“I have you,” Hanzo manges between furious kisses, “I have you, Genji. I won’t--take what you need.”

“I need _you_ ,” Genji gasps into his mouth, ripping one hand from Hanzo’s shirt to cup rough and sudden over the hard line of his cock. “Just you, just _this_. Hanzo, I’ve wanted you for so long. Don’t make me wait anymore, brother, please.”

Hanzo isn’t gentle when he seizes Genji’s shoulders, too excited to be soft, twisting to toss him onto the bed behind them. Genji makes a soft noise when he lands, bouncing slightly on the mattress, but instantly open his arms and legs, reaching out for Hanzo with his whole body. He leans down atop him in a rush, hands fumbling to touch everything, to be everywhere as their mouths reconnect. 

He’s not thinking as Genji strips the jacket from his body, hands catching in their haste, fingers fumbling with Hanzo’s belt until he pulls back to yank it open. Genji helps as best he can, sitting up slightly to tear at the button and zipper, until he can roughly wrench the material down around Hanzo’s thighs. 

His cock bounces in the open air for one moment, blood hot and flushed an angry red at the tip, before Genji’s fingers close around it. Hanzo chokes on a breath, muttering out a filthy curse in their native tongue as the warm metal of Genji’s thumb presses against the sensitive, leaking tip. 

“I want this inside me.” Genji pumps his cock, like Hanzo could possibly misunderstand his words, and he nods without thinking.

“Anything you want,” he gasps between desperate kisses, “anything, Genji. I will give you _everything_.”

“I just want you.” Genji’s response is nearly a sob as his knees raise, trapping Hanzo’s hips between them as though he’s likely to pull away anytime soon. “Just you, anija. I’ve missed you so much.”

“How do I--” 

Everything freezes for a moment, a shiver running down Hanzo’s spine as he recalls the _extensiveness_ of the damage he’d done. God, what does Genji have left beneath metal and protective armor? There are even falsely smooth bits of his teeth that Hanzo has mapped with his tongue, all of it replaced from his act of cruel ignorance.

Genji doesn’t give him time to ponder on things. Does not give him a moment to fall into the guilt and self loathing of the past. He lets go of Hanzo’s cock for a split second, hands shoving between them to fumble between his own thighs. Hanzo hears the pressure release of some clasp being undone and then Genji’s ankles are crossed behind his back, hand once more wrapped around his cock. 

“Here, Hanzo, here. I need you here.” 

Hanzo doesn’t see where _here_ is, though the fact that Genji has a hand between them as he pulls Hanzo in close and mutters it makes him groan low in his throat. Genji must be holding himself open for Hanzo, spreading whatever is making the wet heat that brushes the tip of his cock in preparation to receive him. 

“Still so lewd,” he manages between frantic gasps for air and kisses that steal his very soul. 

Genji grins against his mouth, before settling the tip of Hanzo’s cock into a hole so slick and molten hot it makes him cry out. He thrusts forward without thinking, too desperate to chase the wonder of the feeling, and is only struck dumb when his cock sinks a few inches deep in that simple move. 

“Tight,” he grits, trying to stabilize himself, trying to be gentle as he rocks his hips in a motion he hasn’t used in far too long. 

“No one but you,” Genji whispers fiercely back, tugging him forward so Hanzo bottoms out with a groan that tears itself from his chest. “I haven’t let anyone-- Hanzo, I’ve waited so long for this. Nothing has been enough. Not like you.”

“Have you thought of me?” Hanzo hisses as his hips churn, too tightly wound to be gentle or slow. “Have you split yourself open on your fingers, desperate and needy for your anija?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Genji all but sobs. 

He isn’t gentle. Hanzo ruts into his brother’s body, into whatever delectable hole he’s been seated so deeply into, like some sort of beast. He _feels_ beastly, snorting and panting like an animal desperate to break its chains. Genji’s a mess beneath him, whining and whimpering into Hanzo’s mouth, still trying to kiss him as the force of Hanzo’s thrusts shake his body. What little he manages is sloppy, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, making every connect of their mouths a drooling mess.

Hanzo loves it. 

He knows he won’t last long, he’s kept himself celibate for too long--sustained only on memories and his own hands on nights where he simply couldn’t refrain any longer. But it doesn’t seem to matter. Genji is unraveling beneath his hands, beneath his body, and Hanzo gasps when one shrill cry of his name is followed by a gush of fluid that drips down his hips onto his thighs.

“Oh, Genji,” he buries his head in his brother’s neck, feeling the clasps on his shoulders release, the steam a hot wave against his throat. “Gods, you feel amazing. I haven’t--I’m going to--I can’t--”

“ _Please_ ,” Genji doesn’t let him go, clings tighter if anything.

His legs lock behind Hanzo’s back, holding him in so tight all he can do is grind in, hips thrashing as he moves. He doesn’t speak when he comes, too struck by the power of the release, gasping and groaning into Genji’s shoulder. His teeth clamp onto metal, keeping him stable as he shakes apart, fills Genji with so much come it slides out as he gives a few weak final thrusts.

They collapse in the aftermath, Hanzo keeping himself off Genji’s body with shaky limbs, trying not to crush his brother beneath him. Genji looks like a dream, eyes dazed and glistening, hands reaching up to trace the lines of Hanzo’s face like he’ll break with too firm a touch.

He may. Hanzo feels delicate, like one push will make him shatter, body trying desperately to recover from the sudden roughness.

He follows willingly when Genji pulls him down into a kiss, this one almost feather-light compared to the brutality of the earlier ones. Genji hums into it, tongue brushing Hanzo’s before he draws back, slicking that same tongue over his lips with a satisfied noise.

“Merry Christmas, anija.”

“Merry Christmas, otōto.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm momomomma2 over on tumblr, if you wanna find me there!


End file.
